


My Ocean of Lies

by SwitzyFangirl



Series: Different Times We've Lied To Each Other [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwitzyFangirl/pseuds/SwitzyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've all lied, we've all killed. Tortured, burned, laughed in pools of blood, ours and others. What is left but the ocean of lives that drowns us, kills us, resurrects us. We are monsters and we are children playing with fire. Our souls burn for forgiveness, our hearts burn for love, but our very being burns for blood and death. This is our piracy. This is our life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Ocean of Lies

_Piracy, greatest crime, or sweetest adventure? Probably both. Allow me to introduce myself: Captain Arthur Kirkland. Personification of England and world renowned pirate captain. Along with my brothers Ian, Callum, Fallon, and Drystan I terrorized the seven seas, including that damn Spaniard, my brother’s French girl/boy, and that damn Prussian Gilbert!_

_Piracy is like a rose, beautiful and covered in red, but with hidden thorns that burn and prick at silky smooth pale fingers, drawing a single drop of blood out that then drips to the ground. Beautiful and dangerous, that is piracy. My name is Francis Bonnefoy, or Captain Bonnefoy. I am the personification of France. Even on the seas I have managed to maintain my friendship with Gilbert and Antonio, although we have our fallouts, we are always there. Leaders and lands come and go, but true friends are forever. If piracy has taught me anything, it has taught me that._

_Piracy is an awesome adventure fit for only the best of the best, and I of course fit that profile perfectly. With my little brother at my side I travel the seas, sword at the ready, and five meters waiting for the fun that comes with piracy, whores and a certain Frenchman to be exact. My name is Gilbert Fritz Beilschmidt, but you can call me Captain Beilschmidt. I am Prussia, the awesomest nation ever!_

_Piracy is an adventure, sharp like my ax, and bittersweet like my friendship with my brother and Gil. Roma and I fight against England with the help of Gil and Francis, but he’s still too strong for such a little puta. Tim and Bella have been helping out to, but Tim’s just so mean! I don’t know if I can take it…My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo or Captain Carriedo. I am Spain._

“This must have been fate.” Arthur smirked down at the bruised Spaniard, his captain’s hat falling in his face over his eye patch.

Antonio turned his head to face Arthur, green eyes met green, and he glared hatefully at his half-brother. If Rome could see them now…fighting like this.

Arthur reached forward and tore the ripped bit of cloth out of Antonio’s mouth, only to have blood spat in his direction. He wiped blood off his cheek, staring at the red stain on his hand. He clenched his fist and glared at Antonio with his good eye before ripping off his blindfold, his sightless blue eye directly in Antonio’s sight. “Remember this _brother_?”

Antonio looked away. He moved his lips, licked them, and cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He was sorry. That fight had gone too far and he’d just been _so mad_ he couldn’t stop. If he hadn’t snapped out of it, Francis staring at him, eyes filled with fear and worry, he might have killed Arthur. Hell, in a way he had. Arthur had always been reliant on his eyes for everything, now with one less; he was so…so…so broken.

Arthur pinned him against the wall he was chained to, teeth grit. “Sorry? SORRY?! You don’t know the meaning of that word. You. Are. A. Worthless. _Monster_.”

Antonio’s head dropped and he couldn’t look Arthur in the face. “I really am sorry. If I could go back, I would.” He whispered, tears streaming down his face. _How could I do that to my brother?_

 

Ian pulled him out of the room not long after Antonio lost consciousness and threatened to fan his ass if he did any more.

Arthur glared. “Fuck off Ian.” He spat, pushing his brother off him.

“If you kill him we all die.” Ian told him.

“It would be worth it to see him die. Some brother he turned out to be.”

“What about you?” Ian hissed. “Do you even remember why he did it? Why he fucking snapped?”

“Never mention it.” Arthur waved him off. “It was none of your business.”

“You nearly killed Francis.” Ian seethed. “If he and that damn Prussian hadn’t showed up, you would have killed your half-brother.”

“That fucking whore would have been fine.” Arthur turned and snapped at him, fists clenched. “He’s fucking the Prussian; he can take anything I dish out.”

_Blood, bloody blond hair curled at the tips. Screams bubbling from swollen pink lips painted red by blood. Screams that only drove him farther, in, out._

_“For a whore you’re pretty tight, Francis.” He hissed, manicured nails digging into his back as Francis alternated between scratching, biting, and pushing._

_“Get out of me!” Francis sobbed. “You’re hurting me!”_

_He yanked harder on the hair in his left hand. His right hand traced the fine jaw bone on the beautiful face before him, covered in blood and bruises. Next was that neck, covered in bruises and hickeys. “You’re a fucking tease Francis. Don’t start saying you don’t want it. Beg for more. Like you did before.”_

_Instead of answering those long, thin, pale arms just dropped to the ground and the body went limp except for the tremors he could feel wracking Francis’ body._

_Blue eyes met his green, begging through the tears. Silent pleas for mercy that he was surprisingly short on._

_“I’ll show you. I’m no fucking rebound fuck you whore!” He yanked hard, smirking at the scream that followed._

_Francis licked his lips. “Just cum already Arthur.” He whispered. “You’re killing me.”_

_Arthur leaned down and licked his ear, whispering hotly in his ear. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? You haven’t been eating right, your ribs are breaking beneath me, and I’m not even fucking you that hard. I can fucking feel them digging into me. You haven’t been taking care of yourself Francis, you’ve been killing yourself. Don’t accuse me of killing you. You’re doing a bloody great job on your own.”_

  

Antonio watched the blond Kirkland ring out a washcloth, long blond hair falling in his face. He hadn’t met this one yet. His gag was removed and the washcloth wiped at his mouth.

“I’m Drystan, Fallon and I will be keeping you alive while you’re here. Ian asked us as a favor. He’s a pretty good big brother, even to you.” Drystan gave him a small smile, pretty green eyes sad.

Antonio coughed. “What’s wrong?”

“Arthur’s going to kill you. He’s gonna get all of us killed; first he rapes Francis, now he’s killing you. He wouldn’t let us help Francis.” He shook his head, dragging his bucket forward to ring out the wash cloth. “Fallon will be in when I’m done to bandage you up and give you some food and water.” He bit his lip when he softly patted Antonio’s split lip. “It’s our fault Arthur’s this way, not yours.”

Antonio looked at him questioningly. “Why?”

“We blamed him for mom’s death; beat the hell out of him so many times. We couldn’t find anyone else to blame.” A tear slipped from his eye and he wiped it away. “That’s why we suffer now as his lackeys, his punching bags. He’s so strong now, and we’re nothing.”

Antonio reached out with his chained right arm and grabbed Drystan’s arm. “Don’t blame yourself. You were young to.”

Drystan leaned forward and rested his head on Antonio’s forehead. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

 

_“We can help him!” Drystan growled, green eyes glaring straight into Arthur’s._

_“He’s fine.” Arthur replied, face void of emotion._

_“He’s gonna die!” Ian stepped out of the shadows. “If he dies I’ll personally kill you!”_

_Arthur cocked his head to the side before a smirk spread across his blood covered face. “Oh right, he was your whore first.”_

_Ian roared, launching at Arthur, only to get shoved face first into the wall, pinned. Arthur held his hands above his head with one, a hand groping his crotch through his pants. “Remember your place Ian. You aren’t the top dog anymore. I am. You live to serve me. And if your mouths annoys me one more time I’ll put it to a better use.” He released him, turned, and left._

_Ian glared at his retreating form. “I hate him.”_

_“He’s your little brother, he’s our little brother.” Fallon appeared in the corner, light red locks soaked, bloody water on his shirt. “I still love him.”_

_Ian and Drystan walked over and helped him stand. “What happened?” Drystan asked._

_“I asked him to stop. He dangled me overboard. My head banged against the hull. I’m fine. Don’t tell Callum, he’ll flip out again.”_

_They nodded. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to piss Callum off._

Ian wiped the cum off his face and glared at Arthur.

Arthur smiled and leaned down, kissing him. “I love you big brother.”

_Not the way I want, you little bastard._


End file.
